On His Last Day
by Regency
Summary: They've come to the end of this road and the beginning of another. [Mi Amor: Until Forever] COMPLETE.
1. On His Last Day

Author: Regency  
  
Title: On His Last Day  
  
Category: Angst/Drama  
  
Pairing: Abbey/Jed  
  
Spoilers/Season: The last episode of the last season of the West Wing  
  
Summary: On his last day, he rested. And on his last day, she cried.  
  
AN:   
  
Disclaimer: They both belong to Aaron Sorkin.  
  
She couldn't believe her ears. Did they deceive her? Had she heard that right? She closed her last suitcase. Where was her husband?  
  
She stepped out into the hall and looked both ways. Where could he be? A light bulb went off in her head. The study. Making the short trek, she considered knocking, but decided against it. She slipped through the door and found herself staring at her husband's back. He was trying to remember what he'd brought and what had already been there when he got there. It wasn't easy. Abbey wondered how to bring up what she'd heard.  
  
"So, you know I heard the most preposterous tale when I was packing. And in case you couldn't figure it out, we're pretending that you're one of my girlfriends so shut up and let me talk." The former POTUS didn't say a word, but continued as if he hadn't heard her.   
  
"Maybe you need a little back story. A few months back, my husband and I had a bit of an ugly fight and I left to stay in Manchester. It was the end of my husband's term in office and people had started asking about his plans for after the White House. Not our plans, his plans. So, apparently, my husband had plans and it seemed like everyone with the exception of me, of course, knew what they were. So naturally, I was angry. We'd had a deal about being more open and honest with , first and foremost. each other. And by telling everyone these plans without filling me in, he broke the deal. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. I couldn't stand the dishonesty anymore and I left. I left before I said more things that I would probably regret."   
  
"So, months go by and we don't speak. He doesn't call me to ask me how I'm doing, he doesn't call to apologize, he doesn't call for any reason at all. So, it's almost time the Inauguration of the new President and I realize that we're going to have clean out the Residence and bring everything back to Manchester. And I think, surely he's going to have to call so we can arrange this whole thing. Nope! No call, but boxes upon boxes of things begin to arrive at the house, which leaves it up to me to find something to do with it all. That takes weeks in itself and finally, there's a lull in the deluge. So, I decide that I need to get back to Washington to help him pack, because, well, I had lived there too. It was only fair. Besides, I thought we could talk while I was there and then we'd come back home together and get on with our lives. That didn't quite happen." No, not quite. Jed doesn't stop moving once. He knows she's there. He knows where this is going and he really wishes she wouldn't do this. She really wishes she didn't have to. She stays by the door with her arms crossed defensively over her chest. "So back to Washington, I flew. I was met by a crowd, but no Jed. I went to the White House and up to the Residence, but nope, no Jed. It turns out that he's not even there. Can you believe that I had made this cross-country trip and that jackass wasn't even there? Apparently, he'd gone to visit a lady _friend _of his in Louisiana. Her granddaughter was being confirmed and he couldn't miss that for the world. So, that's a week that I had to myself. I started packing up our things, leaving the clothes and such to the last. Well, President Houdini himself does come back and delves straight into the packing. He doesn't speak to me unless he has to. He only comes to bed after I've already fallen asleep and he never eats with me. I tell myself that he's just sad about his tenure in the Oval being done, but admittedly his blatant disinterest in my presence hurt a little--"  
  
"Abbey--"  
  
"You're still the girlfriend, so shut the hell up and listen. This story will have you in stitches." She just looks into his eyes with a cold glare and he relents, giving her the consideration not granted to her before. "It hurt more than a little, actually, but considering some of the things I said before I left months ago; it was understandable. But then, I started to get a little suspicious. I'd started packing our clothes and was having them sent to Manchester ahead of us so that they'd be there when we arrived. Well, I overheard some Secret Service Agents handling them and one was saying that they were being sent to New Hampshire, but the other said not the President's. His were being sent ahead to an unspecified destination. According to this agent, the President was taking a sabbatical. That's right a sabbatical. Sounds strange right? I thought so, too. Especially since I'd heard nothing of the sort from anybody, including my husband, who I hadn't heard much from in the times that I was in the same room with him, much less states apart. Well, another agent asks, what about the First Lady? I was having the same thought. The second guy goes, she doesn't even know he's going. She thinks he's going back to Manchester with her. Won't she be surprised? To say the least, the very least, surprised I was. I thought they were wrong; they had to be wrong. He was going home with me. Where else would he be going? That brings us to right now. Where else could he possibly be going…girlfriend?" She finally moves from behind the armchair and steps closer to him. Her hand still rests comfortably enough on its back._ 'Just in case I need it to stand,'_ she thinks to herself.  
  
He doesn't turn as a matter of fact, he walks right past her to the bookshelf to her right. "I don't want to do this with you, Abigail. If you want to fight, I respect that, but can you either do it silently or wait until I leave the room? Either one is fine with me." She hides her hurt at the off-handedness of the remark.  
  
"So, you don't have anything to add…or admit?" He stops, but still doesn't look at her. He heaves a sigh and goes to stand behind the oak desk in front of the window.  
  
"What do you want from me, Abbey? Just tell me, I have packing to do." If he wants to be that way; they can be that way.  
  
"I just want to know what they were talking about, Jed. After that, you won't have to worry about me. I'll be out of your way."  
  
"I thought I was the girlfriend." Her lip twitches for a moment, but it doesn't last. She realizes that he wasn't being funny, but being cruel.  
  
"Yeah. Just answer the question, Jed." He doesn't sigh like before or roll his eyes. He just watches her with inquisitive eyes. It's slightly unnerving to her and she unconsciously stands up straighter and taller.  
  
"I'm taking a sabbatical. They had that right."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Does it matter?" She looks down at the carpet. She doesn't want him to see what this conversation, this whole situation, has done to her. He can't see how much it's hurting her.  
  
"Okay, when?"  
  
"As soon as the Inauguration is over." That surprises her a little. She looks up.  
  
"You're not staying for the balls?" He shakes his head. "Oh, any particular reason?"  
  
"None that I feel like sharing with you." Now, he's only being malicious to be that way.  
  
"Okay…Why? Why are you going? What have I done that's so bad that you don't even want be in the same house with me anymore?" He lets out a bitter laugh.  
  
"What gives you the idea that this is about you? This could have absolutely nothing to do with you. You could just be an innocent bystander in all this. It's not likely, but you could be." She stands even straighter. She expected this to have something to do with her.  
  
"So, am I?"  
  
"Are you what?"  
  
"An innocent bystander."  
  
"Yeah, you never did anything wrong. This doesn't have anything to do with you." Now, she doesn't believe him, but lets it go.  
  
"Then why are you being this way? What's happening? Why can't I reach you, Jed? Why won't you let me?" She never meant to let that hysterical vulnerability out, not for him to see. Never for him.  
  
"It's nothing you can help. It's just the way things are, the way they have to be. There's nothing for you to reach for. I'm just here, Abbey. I'm not on any mountaintops, nor am I felled in any hole. I do not sit upon the clouds, beside our Lord, looking down. There are no dragons to slay; demons there are in abundance, but those aren't your problem. I'm just here. That's all. Just here." He looks at her, no vulnerabilities visible, no cracks in the armor. She wishes she knew what was happening behind that brilliant blue gaze. She'd give anything to know.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me you were taking a sabbatical? I am your wife, don't I deserve a little notice that my husband is about to disappear for who knows how long? Maybe just a call that says, _'Ma'am your husband is leaving you. The annulment/divorce papers will arrive to be signed in a few days. The President sends his love and says, it's not you, it's me. Have a nice day, ma'am. And God bless.'_ You don't think I deserve that much consideration?"  
  
"It wasn't about consideration. It was about confrontation and no confrontation. I was tired of fighting. I was tired of fighting with you. I'm weary, Abbey. I'm ready to rest my nerves and my heart. I'm ready to get out of bed with no expectations for the day, to believe what I want to believe without worrying about my approval ratings. That's what I want to do. That's what I'm going to do."  
  
"You can't do that with me?"  
  
"No, Abbey, I can't. You and I, we will always be…this way. I've doomed us to this and I don't want that for you. You can do better. And so --"  
  
"So can you, right? Is that what this is all about? You want to be free…to be with your lady friend form Louisiana?" Now, he looks surprised. Not that she knows about her, but that she'd think that.  
  
"Wow, I didn't know something that stupid existed in your head. Which is starting to say something." It takes her a second to catch that.  
  
"Hey! I resent that remark."  
  
"You should. Okay, let's not do this…whatever the hell this is. I'm almost done packing in here. You don't have to worry about any of this, it's all going with me. As you already know, my clothes are taken care of as well. Now, if we're finished, you should go eat your lunch before it gets cold. I've already had mine and I know that it's absolutely ghastly when cold."  
  
"They can reheat it for me; I'm not done talking to you yet."  
  
"Well, I'm done listening, Abigail. The Inauguration is in a few hours and I've yet to be dressed and the same goes for you. I need to be done with this before the Inauguration, because I'm leaving directly afterwards."  
  
"Are you taking Air Force One?"  
  
"No, I've chartered a private jet-liner. You're taking Air Force One home." She was indignant.  
  
"On whose word?"  
  
"Mine."  
  
"Jed, you don't order me around."  
  
"The husband is the head of the wife as Christ was the head of the Church and gave himself up for her."  
  
"I thought you said he was a hack."  
  
"He was."  
  
"And yet you're quoting him."  
  
"I use what I need to get my point across."  
  
"That hasn't escaped my attention. And I'm gonna ignore that quote because it's stupid and you know it's stupid."  
  
"Of course I do. It was still valid."  
  
"Not even."  
  
"Yeah, it really was. Or so according to the Hack."  
  
"Yes, and that's why we're no longer going to be listening to him."  
  
"Right." Their moment of levity dies and he sighs. "You should go eat your lunch, Abigail. I wasn't joking. It's really bad when eaten cold." He sits up from his place leaning against the desk. He goes back to packing. It's like they're back to where they started and she wonders if anything he said was even true.  
  
"You know, you can't keep doing this to me, Jed." He turns around and looks at her, not comprehending. "You can't want me one moment and push me away in the next one. That's what you've been doing this whole time. You say it's not me, but you're still leaving me in a few hours. You're still going away and you sound like you're never coming home. And I need to know if I need to be prepared for this. Jed, are you leaving me?" He tries to speak, but hesitates. "Don't think, just answer."  
  
"I'm going away…I don't know if I'm coming back."  
  
"Do you want to?"  
  
"Do I want to what?"  
  
"Come back."  
  
"I haven't thought that far ahead."  
  
"What if I found someone else while you were away. Someone who paid rapt attention to me? What if I fell in love?"  
  
"Then there'd be no reason for me to come back, would there?" He pretends the idea doesn't hurt, but he doesn't fool her nearly as well as he fools himself.  
  
"Are you still in love with me or do you just pretend for the sake of the camera? How long have you just been pretending to love me?"  
  
"I've never pretended to love you, I've never had to. It's always been real."  
  
"What changed?" For the first time, throughout all this she sees a crack in his armor.  
  
"Me, Abigail. I changed, and you weren't there to see, so you have no idea how much and how drastically. We've spent so long apart that we both became these new, not necessarily better, but new people. And now, we don't fit. We don't mold together to make a being so filled with love, it glows. That's not us anymore. We're just two people so wrapped in each other that we're desperate to save something that no longer exists that we'd do just about anything to forget that we've changed at all. You've changed into someone that I can't live with…and so have I." The box is filled and he fits the lid on. "I'm gonna go take a nap; you should go have your lunch. Remind them to warm it up for you." He walks to the door, but stops before opening it. He turns to look at her. He takes her in as if this is the last time. He soaks up the eyes that have intrigued him from day one and the body he knows better than his own, that his bore him the most beautiful children a father could ask for. He never intended for her to find out before he left. There was never supposed to be a fight, a confrontation. He was never supposed to see her cry. But he sees the tears glowing in her eyes. It breaks what's left of his heart and for a moment he considers staying, but he knows that if he does he'll never be able to leave her.  
  
He closes the door behind him and walks away…  
  
On his last day, he rested. And on his last day, she cried.  
  



	2. Dos Aviones: Right Hand Man

Author: Regency

Title: Dos Aviones - Right Hand Man

Rating: PG for language

Pairing: Jed/Abbey

Season/Spoilers/Sequel: Season seven; none; this is a sequel to _On His Last Day. _There is a sequel in mind.

Summary: "When in times of uncertainty and fear, your greatest allies are your staff…and your wife. They're your first defense. Tell them everything. Especially your wife, because when she's pissed at you, the Residence gets to be a very small place."

Author's Notes: I meant for this to be the end, but it didn't happen that way. So, I guess this will be a trilogy.

Disclaimer: I only own Secret Agent Mann.

wwwwww

The Inauguration had gone fine or had seemed to. Surprising many, her husband had stood up and was given the podium to speak. He spoke as briefly as he ever did. When he stepped down a half hour later there wasn't a dry eye in the room. Not even hers, but she was crying for wholly different reasons.

He spoke of changes, handing over the reigns, passing the torch, moving on. His eyes met hers, but once during the entire time he spoke, during the climax, the denouement. He spoke of loving the office too much, of inner transition, of loss. He gave the man a gentle, but meaningful warning:

"Think to yourself, every time the two of you fight. That woman is my life. Wrong or right, I can't let her leave. Look into her eyes and say, I'm wrong, you're right. I'm a jackass, forgive me."

"And if she's forgiving, she will, but you don't get to be a jackass too many times. Because one day it'll hit her and she'll think,_ I married a jackass. What the hell am I still doing here, I deserve better. _And when that happens, be prepared to beg, my friend. Because, when a woman's got her mind made up, it's damned made up." That got a round of chuckles from the few former Presidents in attendance. They'd all been there and more than one of them were now long divorced. "When in times of uncertainty and fear, your greatest allies are your staff…and your wife. They're your first defense. Tell them everything. Especially your wife, because when she's pissed at you, the Residence gets to be a very small place." Boy, did he know that well. There was no hiding or not running into each other when they were there together and fighting.

"More than anything you must remember, be subject to one another. You may have the power, but you need people who respect you enough to listen and to give a damn. Every once in a while, you need your Press Secretary to say, _Damn it, sir, I need you to take a moment and do what I say. You're going off half-cocked and you're running head first into a brick wall called the media. You don't have to do that, that's my job. Let me do it. _When they ask you to let them do their job…let 'em do it. But, and this is the absolute last thing, I promise…Love your job, but don't ever put it above the people _you _love. Make the office, don't let it make you." His voice was soft and his eyes looked into hers with such fire that she thought the air between them would ignite, but it didn't. There was a wet applause as everyone tried to wipe their faces and clap at the same time. It was the last of it that reminded them of everything that's happened in the last four years. The disappearance of Zoey, her later health scare, Leo's health scare, CJ's son. A thousand scandals have come and gone in the time her husband was in office, but if it didn't cross his desk it didn't hold ice water. That's what she feel like she'd been submerged in as she's ushered to her car and she enters to realize that Jed's already gone. As she sits and watches the outside scenery of well-wishers and some protesters go by, she feels the emptiness…the loneliness of this enormous car closing in on me. She was originally planning to attend the balls with Jed, but that's not a possibility anymore. She wonders if he's gone yet, or if his conscience gives him even a moment's pause. She wonders.

"Agent…" She can't remember his name. "Could you call ahead and see if the plane's ready? I'd like to leave now." He nods at her, not at all suspicious of the question. She can't help wondering how many of her own agents her husband has enlisted in his plan to leave her. It's a question that leaves her wary, if not more than a little curious. To her surprise, the car phone on the console beside her starts to ring. She's never paid it any notice before and has had little use for it in the past. Who would know she was here, much less actually call her? She looks to the driver to see if this produces any reaction from him. None. The phone that never rings is ringing and this doesn't seem strange to anyone else? She guesses not and picks it up. "Hello."

"Hello, Abigail." Her breath stops until it registers with her brain and she begins to choke. What the hell…?

"Why the hell are you calling me?" That's not what she wanted to ask, but she truly couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Oh, Abbey, I thought you'd be happy to hear from me." Of course, she'd be happy to hear from him, if he was right next to her and not, well, leaving her.

"Yes, well, circumstances." The jovial tone he had before dies and for a moment she just listens to him breathe. In. Out. In. Out. He breathes like it's any other day, like he's going to meet her at the Ellipse and they'll kiss and banter just like before. Like it's any other day.

"Yeah. I'm just calling to…check on you." She would laugh if she wasn't so close to tears.

"What gave you the idea that there was anything wrong?"

"You asked about the plane." She sits up straight. How did he know?

"You have spies."

"I do…Like I said, I worry." The idea is as painful as it is heartwarming. She pulls her legs up under her skirts and snuggles back into the seat.

"What for?" He laughs and for a moment she fancies she can hear a bit of her own bitterness reflected in it.

"I thought we'd covered this this morning." She isn't sure what they covered this morning. It's a blur to her.

"Refresh my memory."

"Do you really believe that I don't love you? I mean, do you think I'd leave you for another woman after thirty eight years?" She's almost surprised at the question, but at the same time, she isn't.

"You've given me no proof to the contrary." The fact that they're sitting in separate cars doesn't help much.

"What proof have I given to implicate myself in this? I've never bought lingerie from Victoria's Secret and left the receipt lying around. I've never , if memory serves, taken clandestine calls in the middle of the night. What have I done?" Well there was that one time, but that was Leo.

"You left me, Jed. You left me and you weren't going to tell me until after you did it. If that's not proof of malicious intent, then, damn it, I don't know what is!"

"Has it occurred to you that I didn't want to have to see you cry, that I didn't want to see the pain I was causing you."

"If you knew it was gonna hurt me, why did you do it?"

"Because it was only a matter of time before I hurt you too, really hurt you."

"And you haven't, now? You haven't really hurt me?" She knows that's not true and so does he. That doesn't mean he'll admit to it.

"I know." Or maybe he will.

"You know? What the hell does that mean? You know?"

"I know that I'm hurting you."

"Then, can you please stop?"

"It's not that simple."

"It's not that simple…why?" Why does she have this feeling that there's something he's leaving things out? She doesn't know if she can deal with anything else right now.

"Because, I can't come home to you." Something about his tone stops her cold and she listens to his breath. It's not like any other day. He can barely take a comfortable breath.

"You can always come home to me," she whispers, feeling ashamed that her anger's evaporated so quickly.

"Not this time, Abigail. This -- This is something different." She sits up straight. Something's wrong; she can hear it in his voice.

"What different about it? You say you still love me. I know I still love you. So, what's changed?"

"So much," he whispers.

"Talk to me, I'm here."

"I can't. You won't understand."

"Make me understand, then. Tell me what's happening?"

"There's…" He takes a shaky breath. In her mind's eye, she can see him run a frustrated hand through her hair. "Abbey, if you ever need me, I mean, really need me, there are two people in the world besides me who know where I will be." Abbey swallows back an unexpected sob.

"Who?"

"There's CJ and --"

"Why does CJ know?"

"Because she's a friend to both of us and I think, she will be able to judge better than either of us whether you really need me. Now, can I please finish this? This is very important."

"Okay." He's silent for a few beats and she listens as he seems to debate with himself. "Are you going to tell me or not?"

"Yeah, okay. There's an agent, one agent, who will always be with you. He will always be there, on your right side. It doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing, if you look up and to your right, he'll be right there. He's your 'Right Hand Man.' It is his job, his duty, if you should ever ask, to tell you how to reach me. It is his job to get you to me, with me, at any cost. If he should ever die on duty, his last breath, before any other message he might leave, is used to get you to where I am. His last breath."

"Why?"

"Why, because, believe it or not, you may really need me one day."

"What if I need you right now?"

"He's right there, Abbey."

"Why can't you tell me?"

"Abigail, trust me, honey. Just trust me. Ask him." There's another voice in the background that she can't hear. "Baby, I have to go, now. Ask him."

"Are you getting on the plane?"

"I'm on the way, yeah. Why?"

"You gonna tell me where you're going yet?"

"Ask the Man." She sighs and nods to herself. If he wants to be difficult…

"I thought you were the Man?"

"Oh, I am. Just not this man."

"Ah. I love you, Josiah." She bites her lip and listens to the silence on the other end.

"I love you too, Abigail. I will always love you. If you ever need me…Ask him. I'm always right where you think I'm not."

"You confuse me."

"I do try." He listens to her laughter and only for a moment, allows himself to bask in the sound that gives him chills. "Goodbye." He can feel the light in her eyes dying.

"Goodbye…jackass." He laughs again, but it's a sad, almost painful sound to hear.

"Ask him the meaning of 'ever.'" She sits there, confused.

"The meaning of 'ever'? Why?"

"Abigail, for once, just do as I say. You'll understand soon." Before she can respond, there is a click and then, silence. Okay, well, that was abrupt.

She can't contain the bereft feelings that run through her and a sigh escapes. Her eyes slide across the interior of the car and come to rest on the back of the driver's head. Was this the man?

"Agent, do you know where my husband is? Do you know where he's going?" He looks up at her via rear-view mirror, but his face remains impassive.

"I'm not at liberty to give that information, ma'am."

"Meaning what, Agent?"

"Meaning: I'm not at liberty to give that information, ma'am."

"My husband said that you're supposed to tell me where he is, if I ask. You're not doing that."

"No, ma'am. You asked me if I knew, not where he was going. That's the only question you're cleared for the answer to."

"I need clearance for this conversation?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"This is so much whatever-the-hell." His eyes smile a little, but he stays silent and continues driving. "So, the answer depends on the question?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay. Where's my husband?" He meets her eyes through the mirror.

"Do you want to know, just to know or because you want to be with him?"

"Does it matter?"

"It does." She doesn't think he's telling the truth, but relents.

"I want to be with him." She meets his gaze steadily and he seems to approve.

"He's waiting for you."

"Where?"

"At the end of this ride. From there, how the day ends is in your hands." Her eyebrows furrow as she tries to comprehend what he's saying.

"I don't understand."

"You will." She isn't so sure, but nods to end the conversation.

Soon, the car comes to stop. She isn't sure how to end this. Does she just get out? What did he mean it's in her hands? What waiting for her outside of the door? She's not sure she wants to know.

"So, this is my stop?" He nods at her, encouragingly.

"Yes, ma'am."

"My plane's ready?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Agent…what's your name?" She isn't sure why she wants to know, but she does.

"Agent Mann, ma'am." She blinks and her lip twitches. She can't help herself. She's trying. Really, she is.

"Secret Agent Mann? That's your name?" She could swear he just rolled his eyes, but she isn't sure.

"Yes, ma'am." She grins to herself. Suddenly, she's not so afraid of what may await her outside the door.

"Okay." She knocks on the window to signal for the agent outside to open the door. She's ready to face whatever waits there. But not before she says this, "Thanks for the ride…Secret Agent Mann." She skidaddles from the car before he can turn around and shoot her. She's sure she isn't the first to make the remark and she's certain she won't be the last. That doesn't mean she wants to get her ass kicked over it.

She chuckles until she sees what all the chatter's about. There are two planes, back to back, facing opposite directions. Air Force One and another one with some insignia on it. As the cameras flash, she wonders what her face is like. But as she sees her husband waiting quietly at the end of her carpet, of which there are two, she can't help but ask herself, _where's he going_? She looks over her shoulder to where her car stood only moments ago, but it's gone. She forgot to ask where he was going. Her husband…

He looks at her. She looks at him. There are two planes…

_Dos aviones._

Where's he going?

wwwwww

I hope you like it. There will be one more part and then, I'm officially calling it a series. Read and review.


	3. Un Corazon : God Only Knows

Author: Regency

Title: Un Corazon: God Only Knows

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Jed/Abbey

Season/Spoilers/Sequel: Season seven; none; this is a sequel to Dos Aviones - Right Hand Man. There is a second part.

Summary: Agent Mann's words ring in her ears: From there, how the day ends is in your hands. It's in her hands and she doesn't know what to do. She doesn't understand.

Author's Notes: I meant for this to be the end, but it didn't happen that way. So, I guess this will be a trilogy.

Disclaimer: I only own Secret Agent Mann

**Josiah Rising**

She stares at him from her end of the carpet. She is paralyzed. Agent Mann's words ring in her ears: _From there, how the day ends is in your hands. _It's in her hands and she doesn't know what to do. She doesn't understand. She looks down at her hands. These hands that have saved souls and saved lives. Hands that have loved and lost. Sometimes, all in the same caress. The hands that will change lives today, but she is uncertain how. She is in need of guidance. She looks to her right and blinks. It's him; Secret Agent Mann. His eyes are hidden behind shades, but she can feel him watching her.

_From there, how the day ends is in your hands._ His words mock her where she stands, afraid of the man she is so desperate to hold onto. Unconsciously, she seeks him, seeks his presence and his love. Why would he do this? Why tell her she is loved, only to leave her lonely? Why would he do this? Why is he...? She has to know.

She holds her head up high and pretends that her lightheadedness comes only from the chilling cold and not his fathomless gaze. His eyes watch her and she wonders if he is as afraid as she. Does he fear the parting he has invoked? The loneliness that surely awaits him in the air? Does his heart pound painfully against his ribcage in retort to hers that dares break? Does he wish to touch her, kiss her just once more? She doesn't know. She wants to know. She needs to know.

Before she fully realizes what's happening, she finds herself moving towards him. It's not a conscious choice of mind, but one her soul makes for her in its impatience. She can't be stopped. She doesn't want to be. His souls calls for her like a siren to the rocks. Will she crash? She doesn't know nor does she care. He calls for her. She goes to him.

She stops only inches away from being able to reach out and touch him. He is too far to touch, but not too far to feel. She can taste him in the air. He is everything. He is all she sees. She doesn't hear the camera flashes anymore. He has captivated her all over again. Her chest is tight; his scent feels her nostrils. Her skin burns with his heat. Her fingertips tingle with the desire to press themselves against the clothed flesh they know so well. She is mesmerized.

It's far too silent. No one moves, no one breathes. A spell has been cast and none wish it dissipated. There is far too much to see. She licks her parched lips and clasps her hands in front of her. Her eyes drop from his, back to her hands. In your hands. She takes another step. They're nearly toe to toe now. She can look into his eyes. She does.

_Where are you going?_

_Away..._

_From me?_

_Never..._

_Then, why?_ His eyes flit away from hers. _What's wrong?_ He makes a vague shrugging movement. _Don't say nothing. Something's wrong. What is it?_

I'm okay.

No, you aren't. What. Is. Wrong? He sighs. He's getting frustrated. So is she.

She wants to touch him, but not with these people watching. They'd don't get to see this. This is for them. Only for them. _Talk to me. _He puts his hand out.

_Come with me._ She doesn't hesitate to take it. She'd follow him to hell, though she is hoping not to have to. They walk up the staircase onto his plane. It's nice. Not nearly as nice as Air Force One, but that's alright. He's here. That's all she cares about. He takes her from the door, to another staircase. They rise. There's an apartment here too. A bedroom. He leads her in and closes the door behind him. They're alone. She turns around and waits.

"You look beautiful, Abigail." She gives her gown a cursory look and rakes her finger through her upped curls. A fine time to say such a thing, she thinks.

"You look handsome." He adjusts his jacket and nods. Why won't he speak? He looks at her under low lids. He licks his lips and stuffs his hands into his pockets. She feels lightheaded. "Why did you bring me here?" He sighs.

"You have questions. You want answers. Ask your questions." She blinks at his frankness. She expected him to beat around the bush a little. Okay. Now, she isn't so sure she wants to have this conversation.

"Don't I have a plane to catch?" He looks absently at his watch as she does the same.

"Don't worry. We're hours ahead of schedule. They can wait awhile." It's too late for not worrying. The time for that was before their talk this morning. She puts down her purse and moves around a bit. She can't look at him right now. It distracts her. Her moving is making him dizzy, so he sits and watches her walk about. "Abigail, either sit down or stand still, but for the love of God, quit pacing like a prisoner headed for execution." What an appropriate euphemism.

"Sorry," she mumbles. This isn't exactly something they do everyday. She takes a fortifying breath. It's now or never... Never sounds good. "Why are you leaving?"

"Because it's best." She raises an eyebrow and stands defensively by the door.

"Best for who? You? Me? The girls? Who exactly is it best for?" He can't meet her gaze and looks over her right shoulder silently. She wonders if he even knows the answer to her question. "Well?"

"I don't have an answer for you."

"Why not?"

"You wouldn't understand." She groans in frustration.

"You keep saying that, but you refuse to let me understand. Tell me. Give me something to tell the girls when they ask where you are, why you left. Don't you think we deserve that? At the very least, don't they deserved that consideration?"

"They do."

"Then, please, give me something to tell them so that they don't think you've abandoned this family for your Louisiana Hussy like I'm starting to think you have." She's on a roll and she's hurting. "I can't believe I thought you ever loved me at all. I was convinced that you loved me; in good times and in bad for the past nearly forty years. What a fool I've been. I bet her granddaughter is your granddaughter too. She probably even carries your name, because you're Josiah Bartlet and you'd never deny your child or your grandchild their birthright. You betrayed me, us, for all those years. I thought I was the only one to give you chills." Her eyes are glassy with tears.

"You are." The door is opened, she's backing away from him as he comes towards her.

"You betrayed me." He shakes his head to compound his words. He still walks towards her. He sees the staircase coming and keeps an eye out. He knows he'll have to catch her before she falls.

"I never did." Her heels slips beyond the top step and he sees her start to fall. Faster than her ever thought he could, he steps forward and spins her back into his arms. The motion costs him his balance and he lands on the floor with her still secure in his arms. That's the straw that broke the camel's back. She sobs softly into his shoulder. She tries to escape his arms. He won't let go. Sobs wrack her small frame and she slams her fists into his chest in grief-stricken rage.

"You left me. You left our children. You never loved me. You never loved our girls. I was just your…thing." The sound of her pain breaks his heart. It must filter down below as he sees two agents coming up the stairs. He shakes his head. Everything's all right. Well, as all right as it can be. They nod and retreat down the steps.

Abbey is silent in his arms, except for the occasional hiccup. She sniffles, but stays still with her head against his chest. "What's wrong with your heart?" He looks down at her, wondering how she knows. He then, remembers that she's board-certified in Thoracic Surgery and Internal Medicine. Of course, she knows. He shrugs and tries to stand. She isn't having it. Her arms are around his waist and she's a lot stronger than she looks. She just listens, silently counting the beats of his heart. "Josiah, what's wrong with your heart?" She's as imposing as she can be while flushed with a red nose and puffy eyes. That's pretty damned imposing. He shrugs nonchalantly. "I don't know who you think you married, Jed, but you married me and I happen to know a thing or two about the human heart. You have an irregular heartbeat." He doesn't meet her eyes. She doesn't know that that's the least of his health issues at the moment.

She reaches up and turns his chin so that their eyes meet. "Talk to me."

"You said it, I have an irregular heartbeat. There it is." She's skeptical. It doesn't take much searching to know that he's attempting to hide within himself. He's hiding from her.

"That's not all though, is it? There's more, isn't there? What ?" He still refuses to hold her gaze.

"Can you stand?" She nods, but doesn't appear eager to do so. He pulls her up. Their eyes lock. She sees the fear he's trying so desperately to quell. He's never fooled her as well as he fools himself. He lets her go and walks back to the bedroom, knowing that she will follow. She does. The door is closed behind them. It's just the two of them again. He takes off his jacket and bowtie, unbuttoning his top two buttons. He's wearing suspenders. "Do you want a drink? Scotch, water, maybe?"

"Water, please." She watches him pour it into a glass and hands it to her. She holds it in her hands and watches as he pours himself a shot of scotch. She wonders if his doctors would approve. She knows that she doesn't. But, of course, she isn't his doctor anymore. She's just his wife and that's beginning to seem like a temporary state.

"God only knows, "she hears him say. She doesn't understand what he means.

"What?" He looks surprised as though he didn't realize that he'd spoken aloud. "What does God only know?" He looks both ways for a quick save. He comes to realization and stands straight, looking at her as though he's got a plan.

"God only knows...the differences between men and women. It's simple, really. No, no, it's oceans deep. His touch is her caress. Her valleys to his peaks. His heights to her depths . She is soft and pliable where he is hard and unyielding." He comes towards her and she steps back, her water still in hand. His eyes are dark with intent. But intent to do what? She already knows. "She is all dips, depths, valleys, and vacation spots. Women, men dream of with dopey smiles on their faces. They ache to possess these beautiful creatures, but they will have none of it. Any undesired touch is rebuffed, any unwanted overture is ignored. These women don't need us, not men. They do fine for themselves and each other. That doesn't mean that occasionally they don't want us." She's trapped against the wall. She can just hear the workings of the plane behind the wall. It rumbles at her back. He's so close. He cups her cheek, stroking his thumb across her lips. She kisses the pad of his thumb. Looking into his eyes, she takes his thumb into her mouth. Sucking gently, she runs her tongue across the tip of his thumb. "Do you know how it starts? Do you know how she seduces him...how she makes herself all that he wants? Do you know what she does so that, he'd throw everything he ever had away for just one night inside her...arms." She gasps at his near faux pas. He isn't embarrassed. He knows what he did. "Do you know?" She shakes her head, all previous questions forgotten. He traces her décolletage gently, stopping when he reaches the bodice of her dress. She perspires. Her scent fills the air. He brushes his lips against her windpipe and glides his mouth to her collarbone. He scrapes his teeth against the sensitive bone and she shutters at the simple pleasure. She pushes her chest forth and he slides a hand up her side to bring her closer still. He nuzzles the exposed swell of her breasts. Her eyes close and her breath catches.

"She walks by in her everyday clothes, leaving him with little more than a coy glance and a parting shot over her shoulder. Her gait is normal, the motion of her hips is lethal. She stretches and shows a beautiful expanse of flesh that leaves all men adoring and prepared to beg at her feet. She makes sure they dream of her. She licks her lips and peers out at him from under her bangs and long eyelashes. She worries her bottom lip and shifts in her seat, causing her skirt to rise. She recrosses her legs and gives a supposed glance of the paradise he dreams of. The room heats up when she arrives; she unbuttons one button on her silk blouse, then another. It's never obscene, always tasteful, elegant. She gives just a peek at the beloved lace hidden beneath. When she speaks, he listens, her lips captivating him, tempting him. He rises with her. He watches her face, but his eyes drift to the now clear cleavage below. She breathes deep. He steps closer. His restraint is waning. That's exactly what she wants." Abbey opens her eyes. They are dark, equally dangerous to that something inside of his.

"Is it?" He steps away, tempting her to follow. She follows. She's in far too deep to stop.

"I think so...She loosens another button. She can feel him looking there. Then another. He licks his lip, his hands held at his sides by sheer will alone. One of her bra straps slip off of her shoulder. The bare skin calls to him. He yearns for her. She can read his desire and turns to leave, rebuttoning her blouse and adjusting her bra. She says she'll see him later. He knows it's true. She always does. It's late night when she returns. Her hair is still flawless, her makeup, the same. She's changed, though. She's dressed to seduce, to seduce him. She wears a black trench coat. She looks at him, closing the door behind her. He can hear the lock engage. She's coy, but she isn't playing. Do you know what she does, then?" Abbey shakes her head. She doesn't care. "She lets the coat fall to the floor. All she wears now, is a pair of heels and a thigh-length negligee. He can't move. She walks to him, behind his desk. She's all he sees...Just like you." Catching her hand by tips of her fingers, he pulls her close. He cradles her face in his hands and kisses the corner of her mouth. His tongue traces the seam of her lips, parting them gently. Their mouths mesh together, their tongues engaged in a dance that is so familiar that neither is truly aware of it. He ends the kiss prematurely, pulling back, but returning to tease her swollen lips with feather-light kisses. She takes him in. She's possessed.

She stands before him. He holds her face, running his fingers through her curls gently. She only looks into his eyes. She steps closer and he kisses her neck, his arms snug around her. She guides his hand to her zipper and it comes down. His hands take over where her dress ceases to. She pushes it down and it pools around her feet on the floor. She steps out of the puddle of scarlet silk and kicks it to the side. No one's going to see her in it for a while. She pulls him to her by his suspenders. She kisses him firmly. He returns it with equal fervor, his hands idly stroking her unclothed back. He walks backwards to the wall, which is closer than the bed. They don't break the kiss as she pushes the suspenders off of his shoulders and starts in on his shirt. Untucking his shirt, she pushes her hands under it, stroking his back with one hand and rakes her fingers through his chest with the other.

He breaks the kiss to speak. He's retaking control. "His lips to her lips. His palms to her thighs. His mouth to her breasts. His fingers deep into her folds." His eyes never leave hers. She licks her lips, backing away with a coy look in her eyes.

"Do you want to make love to me or do you want to talk about making love to me?" He stops in his tracks, realizing that he's being led. He won't be led.

"I don't know. Maybe, I just feel like playing with you."

"Maybe, I don't want to play. Maybe, I want to fuck." He raises an eyebrow at her. She rarely uses such language.

"Well, I guess that's a shame for you. Right now, I want to play, but I guess we won't be doing anything." She bites her lip. She knows what she wants, but she wonders what games he likes to play and if she should be interested. Whether she should or shouldn't be, she is.

"I guess, I'll play your game."

"That sounds nice enough. But do you know anything about my games? I mean, my games are a little...clandestine. I love blindfolds and silk scarves. Do you like silk scarves, Abigail?" She watches him as he circles her, his eyes perusing her, predatorily.

"I can like them. I've never gotten too deep into that little world. What would you do with the scarves?" She has a feeling, but she wants that feeling confirmed. She isn't afraid, but she isn't wild about the idea of it either.

"You already know." She nods. "Do you want to play, Abbey? Do you want to play my game?" She looks at his face, reads his body language, looks for any sign of deception. There's nothing. He's coaxing her, handling her. She hates to be handled.

"Yeah, I want to play." He smiles at her enticingly. She has the feeling that she's just been handled.


	4. Un Corazon: No Words

Author: Regency

Title: _Un Corazon_: God Only Knows

Rating: PG-13, but not so much

Pairing: Jed/Abbey

Season/Spoilers/Sequel: Season seven; none; this is a sequel to _Dos Aviones - Right Hand Man. _This is the second part. There's a sequel, _Mi Amor:_ This Is Our Time

_Summary: Abbey tries for the answers to her questions, but only ends up with an even more broken heart._

Author's Notes: Sorry guys, this isn't the story for NC-17. I know we all love a good love scene, but not for this. The story isn't over yet.

Disclaimer: I only own Secret Agent Mann. Is he even in this part?

**abbeyjedabbeyjedabbeyjed**

**No Words**

It's dark. She is guided completely and totally by his touch. This is more than darkness. This is an absolute absence of light. It doesn't frighten her, but leaves her wary. Soon, she finds her back to the wall, a familiar wall. She can't see him, but she can feel him. He's still in the room somewhere, watching her. He's somewhere close.

His footfalls are silent and his gait is masked by the inner workings of the plane beneath her feet. She thinks she feels a touch, the lightest touch across the tops of her thighs. She moves closer, but it's gone. She's sure she felt a warm breath on her neck, but it's only for an instant, an unfathomable instant. He pursues her as one does its prey. She won't be able to escape him for long. He won't allow it. His feelings for her won't let this game to go on for much longer. His lust is stronger than his resolve. The game doesn't matter. It was the end that will fulfill them both.

She walks slowly, wary of whatever unfamiliar furnishings might adorn the room. She feels a chill spread across the small of her back leaving goose bumps in its wake. She shivers in the suddenly cool room. The chill doesn't last as his eyes set themselves on her in the midst of her quiver and set her afire. She has no idea where he is, but he's closer. She takes a step forward and her knees come into painful contact with a table, she thinks it is. She winces and steps back, nearly falling. Two dependable arms catch her gently, steadying her before moving away in silence. She turns fully around, but knows she will find nothing at all. She finds nothing. Only the air slightly warmed by his presence and quickly cooling at his departure. She wishes for sight at that moment, but short of ending their game, she knows it won't come. And she doesn't want to be the one to end their game. She won't be the one.

She has to find her way to the bed, that was the beginning of the game, he said. Then, the fun would start. She knows that he's already enjoying himself. She gnaws busily on her lip and moves slowly toward the center of the room where she thinks the bed will reside. She can't remember if there is anything between her and it. She hopes not. She wants to play not be bruised. Her fingers come into light contact with a smooth, cool surface. Her hand follows the line of it forward and down, finding her hands stroking soft down and as she moved around and to, silk. She's found the bed. She stands straight, hiding her apprehension and nervousness.

"What's next?" Her voice is bold, but tempting. Will he come or make her wait? Moments passed without a word. Then finally, his voice comes, as bold as her own, but commanding and in its own way tempting. It's so close that she can nearly reach out to him. She does. Her fingers touch his hair, tangling themselves in it and very likely mussing it beyond all repair. He sits on the far edge of the bed.

Capturing her hand in his, he tugs her down onto her knees on the bed and kisses the inside of her palm. The apprehension melts away, but she's still nervous. What if she doesn't play well?

"Are you nervous?" She shakes her head. She's lying and he knows she's lying. "The first rule of this game is: honesty. Don't lie about your limits. You want something to stop, say so. No code words, just _stop_. Don't wait for it to improve, just end it. Now, are you nervous?" She nods. She's very nervous. "Good. That'll make it all the better when we get to the fun part. Abbey, I wanna tie you up with a scarf, are you up for it?"

"Tie me up how?"

"Your wrists." She licks her dry lips, tension tightening every muscle in her body. She knows he'd never hurt her, but fear is fear, whatever it's origin.

"Will I be able to get out?"

"They'll be loose enough for you to get out of without much effort. Would you like to see how it would feel?" She nods and puts both of her hands out. He ties the scarf about both wrists and gives a firm, but gentle tug. She starts at the pressure. "Can you get out of that?" She sucks her teeth and does a perfunctory tug here and there. It gives a little. She begins to try in earnest and extricates her hands in a few seconds. She wiggles her fingers victoriously. "Feeling safer?" She smiled in his general direction.

"I trust you." He reaches up and presses loving fingers to her cheeks. She smiles softly.

"Good." His fingers manipulate an errant strand of her fallen into her face. "Lay down." Abbey's ready to play.

"How?"

"However you feel most comfortable."

"Okay." He helps her lower herself onto the bed on her back. This is how she wishes to lay. So be it. He loops the scarves around the headboard and gives a perfunctory tug for her benefit. She nods her understanding. She has to feel safe. They can't play if she doesn't feel safe.

"Are you hungry?" She thinks, _What a strange question that is_, but nods nonetheless. She isn't really, but doesn't want to say no to whatever else he has in mind. "How about some cherries?"

"Cherries sound nice. Freshly picked, I hope."

"Oh yes, only the best for you, sweetknees." She smiles softly feeling him smiling in return. She's in for the quite the evening.

He sits down at her side and gives a light kiss, daring only slightly to deepen it. He pulls away and she mourns the loss of his lips on hers. He strokes her chin with a single finger eliciting a purr from the back of her throat.

"Shh. We'll get back to that in a moment, but I feel like snacking." He takes a single cherry with its stem still intact and he drags it across her windpipe. She likes how that feels. She feels it rub against the skin of her teeth and licks out her tongue, catching just the tip of it. She got only the brief taste of cherry the skin offered before it was taken away. To her pleasure, something much more pleasant replaces the cherry against her lips. His lips. She parts her lips and accepts the invasion of his tongue into her mouth.

He takes her, restrained from him, but free. She doesn't believe in resistance tonight. She doesn't know what the morning will hold and fears even the notion of a moment beyond the one in which she lives.

She hears his clothes fall one by one from his body and waits impatiently for her lot. He has complete control of her now and she feels more connected to him now than ever before. He's gone for a moment too long and she writhes a little. Just when she's about to call out for him, a light touch on her thigh stops her. It takes her a moment to identify it, but in that moment she becomes more aroused than she ever thought possible.

He runs the feather along the chasm between her thighs, across the lacey surface of her panties, up past her navel and higher to the valley between her breasts, circling them lightly and finally coming to rest at the hollow of her throat. She holds her breath and waits.

The feather returns. Now, at her knees, down her calves, around her ankles and back up. He follows the curve of her figure, up her arm to her wrist and tickles her palms. She barely notices, because his mouth has taken another path and attacks her décolletage with the desperation of a dying man with his lover. He needs her. There'll be marks there in the morning.

**abbeyjedabbeyjedabbeyjed**

She stretches her fingers to the headboard and her toes to the end of the bed. It takes her a moment to realize that her hands are unbound and that she's no longer blindfolded. She rolls her shoulders and looks around the room and comes to the conclusion that she's on Air Force One. She has no idea how she's gotten there. And _where is Jed?_ She pulls the sheets that cover her higher and steps off of the bed, looking around cautiously. After everything, this…whatever it has been, he wouldn't do this anyway. _Would he?_ She wants to believe better of him, but he's given her no reason to. She sees a piece of Oval Office stationary folded on top of the dresser against the wall. She walks to it, still looking around, hoping that he'll come back in time to stop her. Somehow, she already knows what it says. Gathering the sheets tighter around her with one hand, she unfolds the letter. It reads:

_Dear Abbey,_

_If you're reading this, then you've obviously woken up to find me gone. I left a little while after you fell asleep. I didn't want to leave, you have to know that, but there is no other way. There are things that are happening that I can't tell you about; it's not a conspiracy and if I tried to tell you anything it would be little more than a complete lie. You may not agree now, but I think that, in this case, nothing is better than any lie that I can tell you. You know a lie when you read a lie._

_Besides, I could give you a thousand excuses and I know that you're too smart to believe a one of them. Further still, you may not believe me and you have every reason to disbelieve me. I've lied to you and deceived you. I won't ask any further for your forgiveness. I know I sound lost and I am. Lost without you. I'm about to embark on a journey completely alone, without you. This is a first for me. Everywhere I've ever been, you've been there and now you can't be._

_My soul cries out at our parting as do I,_

_But I dare not turn back and look_

_At your slumbering form for if I do_

_Leaving you will be impossible._

_The impossibility of my life._

_There are, as I have said, a thousand excuses that I could make, but what we've had is better than that, will always be better than that. Abbey, I…have just about run out of things to say except that I'm sorry and I love you. In the words of Romeo…or Juliet, one of 'em, anyway. "Parting is such sweet sorrow"…and it is. God, it is._

_And Abbey, about what you said earlier. If you "fall in love," I'll be happy, because that will hopefully mean that you've found joy again. That's all I want for you. I just wish I could be there to experience it with you. It's probably better that I'm not._

_Yeah, honey…I have to leave now. I have flight to catch and hole to fall into. I'm sorry for the lies that I've told you and promises that I haven't kept. I'm sorry for everything that's happened. I'm even sorrier for leaving. I wanted to stay next to you and think of what our life together would bring, but I can't because I'd start to believe that we could really have that life. We can't have that life; you can't have it with me. I really have to leave now, lots of ground to make up for…_

_I hope your dreams give you comfort and that the love we have shared does not sour on your tongue. Our love has been more than beautiful, but in it's own way holy and true despite all of the mistruths within. Our love is greater in its absence than it can ever be in presence. Our love will always be our love… No one else can ever hope to possess or understand it. Not even us._

_Goodbye, Abigail._

_Always right where you think I'm not,_

_Jed._

Unable to fully comprehend what has just happened to her, Abbey takes the letter back with her and rests on the edge of the bed. The letter was obviously written in a rush, it's nearly illegible in some places and un-Jed-like in others. So much to say, and there are no words.

No words.

So lost is she in the wake of a deception months in the making that she dares not ask herself the obvious, but painful questions. She allows herself to wonder only this as she lightly touches the dark marks on her throat. _How the hell did they get me from that plane to this one without me being seen? _That was one of those questions she didn't really need the answer to.

_There are no words._

None.


	5. Mi Amor: Until Forever

Author: Regency

Title: _Mi Amor:_ Until Forever

Pairing: Jed/Abbey

Rating: PG-PG 13

Spoilers/Season:

Sequels: The sequel to Un Corazon: God Only Knows

Summary: They've reached the end of this road and the beginning of another.

Author's Notes: I know I said the last part was the last part, but I was wrong. Sorry. I know, I just changed the tenses, but I had to. This is like the Prologue. This is the end. It's been a blast.

Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure I don't own anymore than I did in the last few parts.

_JedandAbbeyJedandAbbeyJedandAbbey_

**Until Forever**

It'd been months since she'd seen him and weeks since they'd spoken. When he'd first disappeared, he'd called only days later from wherever he'd ended up. At first, she hadn't wanted to take his call. She felt betrayed, abandoned, hurt and unloved. But eventually, the desire to hear from him won out and she picked up the phone.

She didn't know if it was the distance or him, but his voice sounded weak, so weak. She had lay there on what was formerly their bed and listened to him go on about how worried he'd been when she hadn't taken his calls. He was still worried. Then, she got mad. How dare he lecture her on consideration when he'd left her like that? _How dare he?_

She almost yelled, but she couldn't. She just listened as he told her how much he missed her. If he missed her, why wouldn't he come home? _Why won't you come back? _He missed her more than words could say. There were no words for it, no ways to express it. He simply missed her. She missed him too.

"Are you coming home?" The silence on the line held her heart for long moments.

"Yes." She fell back against the pillows with a stunned expression.

"When?"

"Within the next month, most likely." She turned over, her hair falling into her face. She mumbled a curse, regretting having let it grow long again.

"Hair trouble?"

"Shut up, jackass."

"Okay." The silence between them was filled with hope. A hope for something more, a hope for something better, hope for just a little more time. It was more a prayer than anything else.

"I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too."

"You worried about me, didn't you?" As hypocritical as it sounded, Abbey was touched.

"Yeah."

"I figured." She counted the gentle in and out of his breath. He lived. Then, so did she.

"When you didn't answer my calls after the first two dozen, I was on my way home." She flinched a little, almost cursing herself for her timing. He could have been home by now.

"You could come home now." It was weedling, yes, but she was desperate.

"I could, but by the time, I got home, you'd be asleep."

"I'd wake up for you." She could see a smile playing over his lips.

"But could I stay awake for you? I'm not as well or as young as I used to be." Her smile faded into a concerned frown.

"How are you, really?" His end of the line drowned in silence. "Jed."

"I've seen better days, love."

"We all have." It was true. No one had been quite themselves since Jed had 'gone on sabbatical.' The media had gone nuts when she'd arrived home alone and the former President was nowhere to be seen. They were all convinced that he'd died. Nothing, she, the girls (who were mostly in the dark), CJ or Leo (who was also in the dark) had said had made a bit of a difference. Only his arrival and communication with the press would convince the masses.

"Is it cold in Manchester?" She pulled his sweater tighter around herself. It was cold everywhere since she'd seen him last.

"Define _cold _and _crisp_ for me, sweetheart." He gave a deep-throated laugh. He couldn't wait to see her.

"I can't wait to see you." She held the phone closer as though it would bring him with it.

"I can't wait to see you either." He held a picture of her in his hands. It was one of her as she slept on the plane, the last time they'd been together. Her hair spilled over the pillow and over her face, leaving her with the slightest veneer of innocence. She looked beautiful.

"Only space separates us, never time. This time, be us together or apart, is our time. Our time." Tears blurred her vision.

"Our time."

_JedandAbbeyJedandAbbeyJedandAbbey_

She could hear the crunching of the gavel beneath the coasting wheels and literally feel the distance closing between them. This was their time and their place. They would have it.

The rain tickled her senses, but another kind of distraction had the rest of her. He cradled her close, the longing of having her away so long taking its toll. She held to him with the same thoughts in mind. Her face was pressed into the crook of his neck. He was home.

A thousand cameras flashed and reporters were in a frenzy. The President was home and he wasn't dead. He was alive and he was back. At last.

_JedandAbbeyJedandAbbeyJedandAbbey_

They lay on the floor in front of the fireplace, wrapped together in a blanket just sharing in the serenity around them. They were together like they should have been a hundred times before. She listened to him breathe and felt the constant beating of his heart. His strong, strong heart. It beat in time with hers.

"You were gone for so long that I was sure that I'd never see you again." He smiled into her hair and sighed in contentment.

"I could never really be gone from your life. I tried because I thought it was best, but when I realized what I was doing to you, I had to come back. I wasn't only killing you, I was killing myself."

"Nice to know that I wasn't alone in feeling the way I did. I thought I was being stupid."

"Nah. Just in love. I know the feeling." She grinned, eyes drawn the brightness of the fire.

"Me too." She could feel her blood pumping just beneath the surface of her skin, her heart beating with life. She was alive for the first time in so long. She was alive. They were alive. Together.

_JedandAbbeyJedandAbbeyJedandAbbey_

He ran his fingers down her spine, giving her a chill that made her purr. His mouth blazed the path his fingers had began taking her heartbeat along for the ride.

Her breath blew her long bangs off of her forehead, her fingers curled around the edge of the sheet, the ends of her lips turn up as she suppressed a smile as his eyelashes brushed the back of her knees. A little giggle slipped out and she buried her face in the pillows to stifle it. Soon, his face fell onto her back and the room was filled with their sweet laughter. Instead of naked…something else; it was naked laughter. She'd remember that. Especially the little kiss he pressed at the small of her back. It tingled long after that moment. That sensation would never leave her; it warmed her from head to toe. His kisses always had.

_JedandAbbeyJedandAbbeyJedandAbbey_

Days went by and as the blinding fog of their reunion had started to lift, Abbey began to wonder about her husband's time away. He'd never mentioned it and didn't seem to have any plans on mentioning it in the future. She was curious, because despite his rosy demeanor, he wasn't all right. He was still too weak (not so much in bed), too pale, and sometimes had a terrible shortness of breath. No matter how he waved off her concern, that wasn't all right. He was sick and he was hiding it. After, all this. Finally, she couldn't take it. It had been bad enough when he was sick and miles away, but now he was sleeping beside her at night as she was no more informed than she had been.

"Jed, where were you?" He looked up at her from his newspaper and coffee. She stared at him across the breakfast table with a clear expression. He looked around himself, slightly puzzled.

"I was…right here, wasn't I?" He was pretty sure that he had been. Though, he _could_ be wrong…he supposed.

Admittedly, his expression was enough to make Abbey's cheek twitch, but she persevered and kept her firm expression.

"I mean, all that time that you were gone--where were you?" A look of realization came over his face and he put down his newspaper. He opened his mouth to speak, but only ended up heaving a great sigh. He removed his glasses and clasped his hands on the table.

"You really want to talk about this?" She nodded, she really did. "Abbey…I have cancer, complicated by the fact that I have MS. It's not secondary-progressive, but it's MS and it's a problem. That's why I left. I was dying." Her throat had closed and her breath came in short painful gasps. She choked out a response.

"And now?" He put his hands up in futility.

"And now…I'm not."

"You're in remission?" He nodded.

"I am."

"What type of cancer?"

"What type?"

"Yeah."

"Leukemia." She blinked and nodded.

"Are you on some sort of treatment regimen that I should know about?" He took a sip of his coffee and shook his head.

"Nah, I'm just out there. I have to go back to see my doctor in a few days, but other than that…No." She kept her silence and nodded again. She took a gulp of orange juice and very nearly choked before she realized that the knot in her throat had yet to dissipate. She coughed violently and Jed walked around to rub her back. "You all right, honey? You don't need me to do the Heimlich on you, do you?" She shook her head vehemently and waved him off.

"No, no don't worry about me. When did you say you had to go back?" He tipped his head in thought and rocked on his heels.

"A few days." She nodded for him to elaborate. "This Friday." She ticked off the days in her head. She couldn't think of anything she'd have to be doing then. As though, it wouldn't have been immediately cancelled or rescheduled either way.

"I could go with you, this time." It was _his_ turn to choke.

"You don't have to. I mean, I'm sure you have things to do."

"Nothing that can't be cancelled or rescheduled. I'd rather be with you any day. This is too important." He accepted that without further argument. She voiced the question that had clawed at her throat since this revelation. "Why didn't you tell me you had leukemia? Did you think I would love you less? That I'd leave you? Why?"

"My prognosis was grim and my life expectancy nearly nonexistent. I wasn't going to saddle you down with that. I don't plan to."

"So, if it comes back, you'll just up and leave again?"

"Seems pointless now," he said with a shrug.

"It didn't seem a little pointless before?"

"No, it didn't. Not to me." For him, it had been an honest effort to save their whole family from a whole lot of unnecessary pain. The deception just happened to be a necessity to that end. "Despite what you might think after all of this, my intentions were honorable. I owe you peace and ease and I wanted you to have that…I just didn't count on my heart getting in the way." She looked down and pushed her cooling eggs around the plate.

"You couldn't leave me alone." It was a statement, not a question. Either way, she already knew the answer to it. "The heart brings you back."

"Every time," he whispered. "Was it a mistake?" She looked up at him in confusion.

"What?"

"Coming back?" She shakes her head slowly and deliberately.

"No, babe, no. The worst mistake you could have made was not coming back."

"I know…You gave me something to live for. Hearing your voice, dreaming of you. A picture was all I had, just a single picture of you. I didn't dare take more. I never would've been able to leave you. It was already so hard to do."

"You made it look easy."

"I know."

"It really wasn't me?" He shook his head and kneeled beside her chair, taking both of her hands in his.

"It could never have been you. I thought of you, day in and day out. I wanted you with me. There just wasn't a way." She stood up and turned away to look out of the kitchen window.

"If you'd really wanted me there, you could've found a way."

"I didn't want you there. I needed you there, but I would have died before I let you see me the way I was." She turned back to face to find him still kneeling on the floor. She rested a hand in his hair. She couldn't imagine him not having it.

"Did you lose your hair?" That felt like such an insensitive question, but she didn't take it back.

"A lot of it, but it started growing back when the doctor changed my treatment regimen." A small smile touched her lips as she mussed his hair.

"It's thick…and soft." She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I'd even love you if you were bald though. I love you any way you are." He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his face against her stomach. He sighed softly, warming the alabaster skin beneath her sweater.

"I hope so." She squeezed him against her.

"Hope is unnecessary, trust is all you need. Do you trust me?"

"Implicitly." She lifted his chin so she could look into his eyes.

"Then we're halfway there."

"Only halfway?"

"Yeah, we still have to win."

_JedandAbbeyJedandAbbeyJedandAbbey_

Abbey was waiting when Jed boarded the plane, looking through a magazine she had brought with her. He plopped down beside her and opened his planner, looking up his schedule for the trip. Abbey finally threw down the magazine with a sigh and looked over Jed's shoulder to see what he was doing.

"Whatcha doin'?" He looked back at her. He turned his planner back and showed her.

"My schedule for the trip. I have my aides write it out and I add the personal stuff in myself."

"Personal stuff?"

"Yeah, visits to friends, sight-seeing, you know, whatever."

"Oh, okay. You have friends there? Wherever there is? Where is there anyway?"

"Okay, one question at a time. Yes, I have friends there. And _there_ is Verona, Italy." Abbey leaned back with a raised eyebrow.

"Verona? As in _The Two Gentlemen of Verona_?_"_

"As in _Romeo and Juliet_._"_ She nodded.

"Very classy."

"Very well-skilled. I think you'll be quite impressed with their bedside manner. I know I am."

"They're good, I take it?"

"Almost as good as a certain Board-Certified Thoracic Surgeon, I happen to know well."

"Oh, well. I suppose if they secretly kept you alive for a few months, they can't be too bad."

"See, I told you almost as good as you."

"Oh! You were referring to me? I wouldn't have known." He slid an arm around her and pressed a kiss to her temple."

"Yeah, I bet."

"Jed." Her voice reached him at the lowest rung.

"Yeah, babe."

"Can you promise me that no matter what you won't leave again?" He looked over her head and out of the window for a moment.

"I can't promise you that I won't leave again, but I can promise that I will say goodbye first. I won't leave you until I have to." She rested her head against his shoulder.

"And I won't let you go without a fight. You'd better believe it."

"I do." The pilot's voice broke through the mood over the P.A.

"Please fasten your seatbelts. We are a go for take-off." One of the stewards slipped through the curtain.

"Please put your seats in an upright and fixed position." They just looked at him and nodded. He slipped back behind the curtain.

"Wow, feels like commercial flying all over again."

"Tell me about it."

_JedandAbbeyJedandAbbeyJedandAbbey_

"Hey." Abbey jumped when Jed dropped into the seat beside her.

"Hey."

"You okay? You look a little out of it."

"Yeah, just thinking about…us."

"What about us?"

"Jed, what is _ever_?" He pushed up the armrest separating their seats and pulled her to rest her back against his chest. She snuggled down into his arms and pushed her head under his chin.

"Ever is…Always. At any time, in any place. Ever is yesterday, tomorrow, and today. If you ever need me, here I am." He slid his fingers through hers. "I will love you for-ever."

"Today, tomorrow, and always."

"You'd better believe it."

And as she lay in his arms, she let go of what could've been and reached forward to what be. Their love would live forever. As long as she loved him.

And she would love him until the day she died.

Until forever.

_JedandAbbeyJedandAbbeyJedandAbbey_

Merry Christmas!!! I hope you've enjoyed our little journey into the what could be…I have. See you in "A Little To The Left…"


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